Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
by mayzie
Summary: Reagan must deal with changes, including a possible new love, after her family moves her to Europe in the middle of the wizard war. Begining of HBP.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own _anything _except the characters I made up**

I, Reagan Neill, was nonplussed. "Mind your grandparents," my parents said and the next thing I knew, Dad threw me a portkey to England. I do not like traveling by portkey in the least bit. You get a feeling of being pulled from behind your bellybutton; really it's just an over-all uncomfortable experience. I always compared it to the time my muggle friend, Gina, convinced me to get my bellybutton pierced, it was pierced less than a week before it was yanked out in a rather aggressive game of "two-hand touch" football. Minus the blood, that is what using a portkey feels like. As I was recalling this for the umpteenth time my surroundings turned blue, I was crossing the Atlantic. Any other time I would be thrilled to visit Nanny and Poppop but the circumstances really changed my mood. I wouldn't be returning soon enough.

It was a hot Saturday night in late July, just after my 16th birthday, which meant I was now legal, and the fireflies were out. "The Ministry really has some nerve," Mom had said, that night they received the letter. Dad slipped in behind her, hand on her waist, chin rested on her shoulder to read it too. The ministry owl kept giving me the evil eye and seemed ready to snap my fingers off. Rather than toss it some owl nuts I backed off. I had always loved visiting England with my parents and older brother, Kyle, but I shared my mom's American view: The Ministry of Magic was corrupt and stupid. Dad, being the son of two highly ranked retired aurors from the Ministry sympathized.

"Clare, they're under attack, their Minister was clueless, and the Ministry has _just _decided it was a good idea to protect that Harry boy because of his prophecy, the 'Chosen One' they're calling him, everything's a mess, they need our help."

"No, what they need is to go through HAW to get us, we're they're best aurors!"

"Honey, HAW refuses to help them, please they're our fellow wizards and my parents are over there, they-" I always left the room when HAW was mentioned. The House of American Wizardry, I suppose it would be the American equivalence to the Ministry. I ran up to my room and flipped open my Mac, Kyle was online. I requested a video chat, which I knew was acquiesced when Kyle's face appeared on my screen.

"Hey bud, haven't seen you in a while- is something wrong?" Silence on a telephone may be due to a bad connection or an unseen distraction; silence on a web cam had a more visible reason. I looked up at the screen and furrowed my brow, I couldn't lie now.

"HAW," we said at the same time. Mine was like a relinquished breath, his was full of knowing. I could see he had a full grown beard a shade darker than his light strawberry blonde hair that was greasy and getting dangerously close to his shoulders. "Whoa when did you turn into a mountain man? God Kyle, I can smell you from here!" That was of course a hyperbole seeing as I was stuck in the US and he was in Australia. Kyle's job was to work with the Aborigines. They had no problem sharing their culture with tourists; Kyle's job was to make sure they didn't share the magical aspect of it.

"Oh, beg your pardon, Roxie Hart." I stuck out my tongue, I had just gotten my blonde hair cut into a very short bob, but the wavy nature of my hair made me look like a flapper girl right out of my favorite muggle musical, Chicago, Kyle knew me too well. "So what's it this time?" My eyes rolled so far back, for a second I thought I got a glimpse of my brain.

"Its actually the Ministry-" (Kyle scoffed) "they want Mom and Dad over there ASAP," I finished. Kyle shook his head, "Don't worry Rae you'll just stay with me 'til school starts up, and we both know they'll be fine. Ol' Moldyshorts can go suck my wand for all I care." I started laughing. Being that we were in America, we were separated and not afraid to make fun of him. Nanny and Poppop still won't say his name, which I think is ridiculous.

"I'm so sick of Harry Potter and Voldemort, I swear if I meet Harry Potter I'm gonna kill him myself just so this can all be over! No one better put me anywhere near England, 'cause seriously, I will!" Kyle laughed, "Reagan, I gotta go to work, I'll talk to you later, okay?"


	2. Chapter 2

Kyle was the reason I was holding this stupid portkey. If they stuck me on a broomstick I would've passed England and gone straight to Australia to stay with him. But no, my parents wanted me in Europe, where all the problems were, so I'd be "safe." Safe is not hurtling toward the ground in the land of death eaters. With a bone-crunching thud I landed in the field behind my Nanny and Poppop's house.

"There's my li'le Colleen!" Poppop yelled as he came trotting up the saturated green to me. He held his arms out to me and I buried my face in to his beer scented itchy wool cable knit sweater. I looked up into his smiling blue eyes, which I realized was where my own blue eyes came from. "Haven't seen ye' in ages, how 'bout an Arthur, babby?" He tossed the portkey and led me to the house. "Poppop, you know I can't drink beer, I'm only sixteen." An Arthur is a pint of Guiness, my Poppop is a true Irish man and according to him anyone who can see over the bar can drink. Kyle and I always loved going to Nanny and Poppop's house because it was a real culture shock for the both of us, we got to see what real wizards lived like.

Mom and Dad wanted us well adjusted so we lived like muggles with magic (two of my uncles ended up being squibs on my Mom's side). We had computers, electricity, cell phones, went to muggle elementary schools and summer camps, and probably broke a few secrecy rules. We had plenty of muggle friends who knew we were magic and had no problems with it as well as wizard families who embraced a similar lifestyle living nearby. My life, my friends, from home and Salem Witch Academy we're all back in the US and I was here, in rainy England.

"Reagan Patricia!" My Nanny pulled me into a tight hug as spoons went stirring around in bowls behind her. I saw a box of raisins pouring itself, she was making Irish soda bread.

"Your things are up in the room you an' Kyle used to share," my Poppop said as he waddled through the door behind me. I nodded.

"An' your mum and dad'll be joining us for dinner," Nanny added as I slipped away up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Nanny and Poppop's house was the epitome of an English cottage, as far as I would know. The ceilings were low, the walls made of plaster, and everything tilted slightly to the left. The stairs, covered in aged and warped deep oak wood didn't creak as I worked my way up them. That was Kyle's doing a few years ago so we could sneak outside and play Quidditch at odd hours of the mornings with our cousins. I ascended slowly, admiring the pictures of my father and my aunts and uncle all smiling and waving at me. My favorite picture was at the top of the stairs, it was a picture of toothless five-year-old me being held up by Kyle. Sometimes when people would pass I'd bury my face in Kyle's shoulder but whenever I passed I was greeted by a bright smile and a frantic wave, I always felt silly waving back. When this happened again I couldn't help but smile, I was reminded of a time when I was happy without the worries of a sixteen-year-old girl whose family was in danger.

I finally stepped into the bedroom Kyle and I had always shared, our heavy wood bunk bed was switched out with a pretty cast iron full sized bed. The walls were a pale pink and there were paintings of boardwalks and sunrises on the beach with seagulls flying in and out of view, very American-style art. The bed was made up with my set from home, black and white pattern with turquoise birds, and sure enough my pink suitcase was sitting unzipped and empty in the corner. I was so touched that Nanny and Poppop would do this for me seeing as I'd only be staying two months before returning to Salem for school.

I sat on the bed and flipped through an issue of _Witch Weekly_ that was sitting on the nightstand when my Nanny bustled in.

"Here's some fresh towels," she flicked her wand and they soared from the basket into my closet, "I hope this is alright," she added taking in the room.

"Its perfect!" I told her with a sincere smile.

"That's good. I know its tough being away from all your friends this summer," Nanny sighed and took a seat next to me on the bed, "But your parents just want you to be safe, I promise we'll have some fun."

"Its really okay," I said half-heartedly, trying to convince myself more than her, "I'll have a lot of work to do because I did well in all my tests and plan to take a lot of classes next year." Nanny looked a little uncomfortable but patted my back, "Things to do," she said as she hurried from my room. I threw the window open, perhaps a little too hard, and watched the sun fall lower in the sky when I heard a familiar pop, then hardly a second later another very familiar pop. Though I was in no mood to reunite with the people who cast me away from America, I hurried down the silent stairs to greet my parents at the door.


	4. Chapter 4

"Recognized our 'pop'?" My Mom said kissing me on the cheek.

"Always," I smirked.

Nanny came flying in with remarkable speed for a woman of her age and stature, short and plump, and showered both my parents in kisses. My Poppop, an interesting contrast to Nanny, tall with a bit of a belly, like any old man, clasped my father into a welcoming hug, and then did the same to my mother.

After dinner Nanny and I washed the dishes (we just supervised as they cleaned themselves) while my parents spoke in hushed tones with my Poppop in the next room. When the speed of the conversation sped up, the volume lowered, or the tenseness in my Mom or Dad's voices increased I would give a look to my Nanny who was happily flicking her wand obliviously humming to herself. I was never so easy to appease. Once they were done with their sketchy conversation I looked my parents dead in the eye and said, "We _need_ to talk."

Mom and Dad shared a wary look but obliged to follow me upstairs, "We need to talk to you too sweetheart."

I closed the door behind me, flicked my wand to light the lamps, and crossed my arms over my chest. "What's going on?" I demanded.

"Reagan, Rae, we're not here to work for the Ministry-" My Dad began carefully.

"WHAT! Then why am I here?" I tried so hard to keep from screaming. "Mom?" My mother was looking out the window; I could only see the side of her face, which was illuminated by what was left of the orange sun. I looked most like her, something I was glad of, not that my Dad is unattractive because he isn't, but because she had a natural beauty that rivaled the enchanting beauty of a veela. She turned and the sunlight, though it dazzled her white blonde hair, showed the wear of years. Suddenly I realized how tired both of my parents had been looking lately.

"We've been working for a different group under your father's old headmaster and friend." She took a deep breath as if she wasn't sure she should be telling me any of this. She shut the window after one last glance and slid the curtains closed with the wave of her wand as she crossed the room to stand in front of me. My Dad put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's called the 'Order of the Phoenix'," Dad finished. "Now this is something you can't talk to anyone about. The Order was formed years ago when Voldemort was first on the rise. I was in it with a lot of my school friends, many of which died fighting the cause. Now Dumbledore has reformed it in order to protect Harry Potter," I furrowed my brow at his name, "and asked me to come back after learning that the Ministry wanted our help." Dad looked solemn and tired like Mom. I let out a breath and the words _many of which died fighting the cause_ raced around my head.

"This is why we're sending you to Hogwarts, we want you nearby and under the protection of Dumbledore and the Order," but my Mom stopped at the look of shock and surprise on my face. "You didn't tell her!" Mom spun around so fast and whapped my dad in the chest. He shrugged embarrassedly, "Surprise?"

"Oh honey, now that we're in the Order you could be targeted to get information out of us about Harry Potter, this is for _you,_" my Mom wrapped her thin arms around my shoulders and rocked me gently where I stood. Tears slipped down my face, returning to Salem Witch Academy was the only thing that was keeping me going through this summer. A thousand thoughts flooded my brain at once: _what about my friends, my amazing grades, my last year of classes, my future, would they make me start over at year one, what about those dumb houses they separated their students into, would I ever make friends, would they put me a full-grown sixteen-year-old in with a bunch of tiny first grade eleven-year-olds in front of everyone to be sorted, would people make fun of my American accent, what if the castle doesn't have muggle electricity like Salem does?_ By this point Dad joined in on the group hug, but I squirmed away.

"Get out," I said quietly, "Get out!" I yelled. Then I said the worst, most cliché thing I could've ever yelled, "You're ruining my life!" But it was true.


	5. Chapter 5

After many an awkward breakfast of glaring over my cereal at my parents, one day they announced they were going to have to talk with Dumbledore about my classes because the American tests we took at the Academy weren't the same as the tests fifth graders at Hogwarts took to get their sixth and seventh grade classes. It wasn't like I wouldn't be qualified for all the classes I wanted seeing as I scored highest in my grade last year, but it still needed to be sorted out. My parents appirated just outside the backdoor from the kitchen.

As Nanny cleared their places she said, "I don't know when they became so friendly with Dumbledore, they never even made an appointment with him."

"Well I guess they have a lot of clout, what with the Order of the Phoenix and all," but the second I said it I knew something was wrong, Poppop was shaking his head and waving his arms in the universal sign for, "stop talking you nincompoop!" Nanny turned around, "Order of the what?"

"Oh, um," I looked to Poppop for help, which he did not offer, "I ordered a phoenix," _way to think on your toes Rae_, "and um Dumbledore has one, and they bonded over that, I guess." _Phew_. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, you don't mind do you?"

"As long as it doesn't burn the house down," Nanny said bluntly and walked off to do chores.

I turned on Poppop, "You didn't tell her?" He shrugged and sighed.

"Your Nanny supports the Ministry, we haven't planned on telling her just yet." "So now what do we do?" I said looking in the direction that Nanny had just left in. "We order you a phoenix," Poppop smiled. "Oh won't your parents be pleased?"

We laughed as we headed to the living room where Larry, my grandparents' owl, perched. Poppop said he knew just the place to order from.


	6. Chapter 6

Four to six weeks later, after Nanny and Poppop went to bed I stayed downstairs reading a book about Irish castles that looked older than Nanny and Poppop themselves. There were two familiar pops outside the kitchen and I set the book down to fix some food up for my parents. With a swish and flick, I heated up the leftovers and left two plates on the table, I was just about to go back to the book when they came in. Reagan Patricia Neill, what are you doing up at this hour?" My Mom tried her best mother voice but I knew she didn't really care.

"You missed dinner, I was waiting for you."

"Oh," both of my parents collapsed into chairs at the table and seemed like they'd fall asleep right there. I was about to enchant the forks to feed them when they both feebly started to eat. Out of curiosity I checked the clock to see what time it was, 2 o'clock AM.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked cautiously, they looked so worn out at the breakfasts and late dinners when I would see them. I hated seeing my happy, smiling, joking, easygoing parents like this.

"Mhm," they both said distractedly, I expected a similar answer.

"Oh Rae, this is from Dumbledore," my Dad said in a slightly more life-like manner as he pulled a rolled up piece of parchment from his pocket. I muttered a word of thanks and opened the parchment to see thin, slanting writing.

_Dear Miss Neill,_

_I would like to extend my welcome to you to our fine Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I know that under the current circumstances you are not thrilled to be joining us at the school for a year of learning, but I would like you to know, and I do not offer this to most students, that my door is always open to you and your concerns, when I am available. Attached is a list of all of the subjects you qualify to take at N.E.W.T. level this upcoming year as well as a list of supplies for each of those classes. Enjoy the rest of you summer holiday._

_Yours Always,_

Albus Dumbledore

Behind that piece of parchment, just like it said, was a list of all the classes I qualified, it looked like almost all of them. I kept my original decision of the basics, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Though I had always been very good at school, it was never really my thing; I intended to take the fewest possible classes to meet my goal of becoming an auror. My mom overlooked my choices and said, "I really think you should take another class."

"Clare, really, when you were her age did you ever want to take more classes than you had to?" My dad gave me a wink.

"Well, no but-"

"Then let the girl have a rest. Speaking of which, I really think it's time you went to bed, Rae. We can go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, we don't have to work." I made a face but smiled to show my gratitude for getting me out of extra work. I kissed them both on the cheek and said, "G' night." I was slowly forgiving them for "ruining my life."

As I was about to turn to go up the stairs I quickly decided to take advantage of Mom and Dad's grogginess and the distance between us. "Oh and by the way, Poppop bought me a phoenix, it should be arriving soon." I ran up the quiet steps, leaving my father looking shocked and my mother laughing at his reaction and my tact. It was great to hear her laugh again and just before I closed the door to my room I heard my dad mutter, "As long as it doesn't burn the house down."


	7. Chapter 7

"This is so stupid," Dad grumbled as I grabbed hold of his arm for side-along apparition, "in the U.K. we get our apparition licenses when we come of age for magic, God forbid America ever made it that easy." I did have to agree that it was annoying that I could do magic when I turned sixteen but had to wait another year to apparate, it may have just been a reason to keep us in school that extra year. Mom came up along side him and said, "You're just jealous because we could do magic before you could." She turned to me and grinned and I grinned back.

I was excited to be going to Diagon Alley it was always so colorful and cheerful, filled with happy and friendly witches and wizards, but when we apparated into Diagon Alley it was like a completely different place. The sudden disappointment combined with the adjustment of feeling like I was being squeezed through a small straw made my stomach do flips. Surely this couldn't be Diagon Alley, it was more like the body left behind when the spirit leaves a dead person. Many stores were closed, few people were walking around, and no one was stopping to say "Hullo." It was horrid. We walked past three storefronts whose windows were plastered with purple ministry posters bearing pictures of glaring death eaters and safety rules before I realized I was still clutching my dad's arm, which I then immediately released.

Each store we went in seemed gloomier than the last, I couldn't take it anymore. My parents sensed my tension, verging on depression, and told me there was a store they wanted me to see. They exchanged looks with each other and led me down the street. All of a sudden we came to a store where a huge man in a strange animal skin coat stood, he had to have been at least half giant. But that wasn't what caught my attention, no, it was the colorful windows of the store he was guarding that brought back memories of the old Diagon Alley. My eyes burned from staring at the firework-like display and the purple signs, clearly mocking the Ministry's, advertising "U-No-Poo: The Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation." I bit my lip, the quiet streets gave the feeling that laughter was forbidden, and turned to my parents who were harboring similar reactions.

"This must be Molly and Arthur's sons' place," my Dad said nodding to the huge man, "'morning Hagrid." The man, Hagrid, smiled a huge smile under his great bushy beard, "'Ello Sean, Clare." I looked to my parents for an explanation as to why the knew the giant Hagrid, all I got in return was the word "Order" mouthed to me.

"Shall we go in then?" Dad held the door and did a lovely impression of Vanna White. Mom and I exchanged glances then cautiously stepped inside. Dad followed and an explosion of sound and color greeted us. There were so many people, it seemed that this joke shop was the only place in all of Diagon Alley actually making business. There was a gaggle of giggling girls surrounding a shockingly pink section of the shop, and there seemed to be quite a number of red heads, two of which greeted my parents warmly.

"Molly, Arthur," My mom smiled hugging the stout woman as the tall balding man clasped hands with my dad. "Rae, come here we have people we want you to meet," my mom beckoned me over just as I was wandering toward a cage of strange fuzzy creatures. I smiled politely as all children do when introduced to people by their parents, shake hands smile, then steal away to whatever was on your mind that whole time when the conversation no longer involves you, this time was different.

"These are Molly and Arthur Weasley. This is our youngest, Reagan." My father said placing his hands on my shoulders, a gesture that was unnecessary because Mrs. Weasley immediately pulled me into her arms and said, "Oh you're parents never told me how pretty you are, Clare, she looks just like you!" To my delight Mr. Weasley settled for a laugh and a handshake. My father whispered that they were in the Order and I nodded my head and smiled politely again. How could they keep me with them when we were in a store like this? I was so distracted by everything; I just wanted a good look around.

"Your mother tells me you're sixteen, you're the same age as my youngest son and his friends, oh they're around here somewhere. . ." Mrs. Weasley trailed off until suddenly she found who she was looking for, "Ronald, come meet your cousin bring Ginny, Hermione, and Harry." The awkward introductions were greeted with _hi_'s and _hullo_'s. After finding out the circumstance about me and Hogwarts Ron, a redhead and a Weasley, his sister Ginny, Hermione, a bushy haired muggle-born, and Harry, Harry Potter (yes, I refrained from killing him), all asked me questions with slight interest.

"What year are you?"

"What classes do you plan to take?"

"Do you know what house you'll be in?"

We ended on wishing to see each other again when school starts and hoping to be in the same house, really we were all just being polite. Then I looked back at Mrs. Weasley with a question that had been bothering me.

"How _exactly_ are we cousins?"

"Well," started Mrs. Weasley, "your father's mother, your Nanny, well her cousin's husband's sister's son's wife's sister is my mother in-law."

"I'm sorry, so how are we related?" I hadn't really followed along and was pretty sure some of those connections didn't count because it crossed into marriages and in-laws, but before Mrs. Weasley tried again a boy with brilliant red hair, with an even more brilliant smile, and even worse brilliant magenta robes came up to my left side and smirked, "That's the pureblood." Suddenly there were two of them laughing on either side of me. "Though personally," continued the one on my right, "if we can't make three eyed, twelve fingered children together, then you're no cousin of mine." I jumped in surprise. Mrs. Weasley sighed and introduced me to the two very attractive redheads. The one on my right was Fred, on the left was George, I grinned like an idiot, and they just mirrored me.


	8. Chapter 8

"Welcome to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," George said smiling.

"Welcome to Wheezes Wizard Weasleys'. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, I mean." Fred blushed so that the color on his freckled cheeks matched his magenta robes. I blushed with him. George looked between us and sighed, seeing as he was the only one without mush for brains he offered to give me a tour of their pride and joy. We worked our way around the store looking at all the great things the twins had come up with on their own. It was amazing; they must've been geniuses.

"And these," George waved a hand to the blindingly pink products surrounded by girls, "are the WonderWitch products."

"Best love potions out there," Fred grinned suggestively at me.

"Um, yeah I'd quite like to avoid the giant throng of little girls, actually," I said with an uncomfortable move away from the crowded section of the store.

"Muggle tricks!" I beamed at the familiar decks of cards, ropes and balls wrapped in plastic hanging from the back wall of the store. "Oh yeah," said George, "these are for all the muggle lovers out there, like our dad," he added with a nod to Mr. Weasley. I explained our lifestyle in America amongst muggles, which George said their father would love to do, and how I used to impress my friends with the muggle magic tricks before I told them I was a witch. I added, "I hope 'muggle-lover is a compliment, because I certainly consider myself one," I looked to Fred who nodded immediately. I could tell he liked me with the way he seemed to clam up when I looked at him. Looking into his shocking blue eyes, far nicer than mine, I considered if we would make attractive children (something I always wonder when I see a cute boy), I decided it was a yes.

Noting that, once again, neither Fred or I had any intention of doing anything other than stare stupidly at each other, George led the way with Fred walking awkwardly at my side making little comments here and there that were making my stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much. George ushered us into a back room with far less flashy products.

"Our more serious line," Fred said proudly waving his arm over the room.

"What with all this You-Know-Who business we decided to try a line of defense against the dark arts products," said George. Fred continued, "They seem to be quite popular, here we have some Peruvian instant night-"Then all of a sudden a girl with short blonde hair stuck her head in the room, "Fred, or George, we're out of puking pastels can you help me re-stock?" George took one look at Fred and me and quickly volunteered himself.


	9. Chapter 9

That was when it happened. I was looking at the shield hats when all of a sudden all of my worries for the safety of my parents and going to this new school and no longer being out of harm's way in America really got to me. I gave a small and strangled gasp as tears poured out over the edge of my bottom eyelids where they had been pooling. Once Fred saw me two arms wrapped around my back and my soaked face was pressed against magenta robes. He rocked me where I stood just like my mom had.

"What's wrong?" he asked carefully.

"It's just all this stuff with Voldemort," he winced, "and my parents, they could be in danger, it was just seeing all of this protection stuff just brought up a few worries I've been hiding for some time." My voice was muffled on Fred's chest, but for the most part I think I was understood. I continued as Fred rubbed his hand up and down my back, "Th-the thing is, is that the fact that people need this stuff, these really are desperate times." I sniffed and wiped the part of my face that wasn't pressed to Fred. He was so warm and gentle.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," his warm whisper tickled my ear, and suddenly I had no control of my actions. I pulled my face away from Fred's magenta chest, and even though he stood at least two heads taller than me, his head was bent closer to mine. The next thing I knew I was taking his pale freckled face in my hands and pulled it from my ear to my lips. We kissed. It was soft, and to be honest a little wet from my crying. It was the best I could've expected, not that I was expecting anything because my body was moving without my brain, but Fred didn't push me away, no, he pulled me closer. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, while one of his hands moved to the small of my back, holding me closer, and the other slid through my short wavy hair. Just as we had found a rhythm and were pulling each other as close together as we could physically get, there was an awkward cough made from the doorway. I could feel Fred pull his lips apart mid-kiss into a smile, which sent goose bumps flying across my skin. Then so fast that he couldn't have apparated there so quickly, Fred was across the room, and as if nothing had happened he continued, " so, yeah, it makes everything all dark for a quick get away, oh hey George, been there long?"

"Long enough," George responded shaking his head and laughing at his twin. I blushed and wiped my face dry with my sleeve. "Reagan, this came for you by owl," he added questionably. It always amazed me how owls could find you even when you were in no particular place that you should've been expected in. I reached out to take the bag from George with as much curiosity as he. It was a relatively heavy, deep red velvet drawstring bag with intricate gold embroidery that fit across both of my palms; I wasn't expecting any packages, at least none like this. The twins leaned in as I pulled open the top of the bag to reveal a strange almost metallic lining of the bag.

"Ashes?" I said finally seeing the bag's contents. I looked up at Fred and George but they both shrugged, then the bag moved. I almost dropped it out of shock. At the same time the three of us leaned in over the bag and bumped heads, and that was when I saw it. A tiny little, nearly featherless bright red bird had poked its head through the ashes and was looking up at me.

"Oh my gosh!" I dropped my hand in the bag and scooped out the baby bird, spraying ashes everywhere. After muttering a quick and almost automatic "sorry," I looked down at the bird.

"A phoenix!" the Weasley's exclaimed.

"Amazing," I whispered as I held my cupped palms up to eyelevel to take a better look. Someone from the front of the store called for help with a customer, George sighed and said, "I got it."

Fred moved in closer and bent over a little so he too was eyelevel with the baby phoenix. "They really are amazing," he said without taking his eyes off the scarlet and gold bird, "they start to look like crap and burst into flame, and just when you think you've ballsed it all up and everything's going wrong, something like this little guy comes out of the ashes, good as new to start again." I looked at Fred, amazing indeed. Fred pulled his arm around my shoulder and kissed me on the top of the head and said, "Everything'll be fine." I took a deep breath and nodded.

"I should probably go back to my parents," I made my way to leave just before Fred hastily added, "Reagan, send me an owl when you take a trip to Hogsmead from school, I'll give you the grand tour." He grinned brightly and I couldn't help but smile back. Perhaps this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

**This is my first fanfiction so reviews of any kind are quite welcome!**


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